Chapter Text
“Hey, you wanna do me a favour?” Robby asked after a long pause of silence.
“Yeah?” Dennis quickly responded.
“You wanna house sit for me while I'm gone?” A quick point and a smile from Robby lead Dennis to scoff a little.
“You’d actually be helping me out and...you'd save some money on rent.”
The conversation continued and Robby rambled on about how Dr. Abbot does naked yoga or something, but Dennis didn't bother to really listen, instead he was focused on the way Robby’s lips moved in a curled smile and the small grey hairs in his beard; all the little details no one else bothered to care about.
“Yeah, yeah that would be amazing.” Dennis stopped for a second to recollect his thoughts. “T-The house sitting, not seeing Abbot's naked yoga…”
Dennis recalled the embarrassing exchange from yesterday in his head. During his chaotic shift at work on the fourth of July, the man he had been quietly noticing for the past 6 months had offered his own home for Dennis to stay in for a whole three months. Dennis now nervously stands at the front door, his suitcase in one hand and a note from Robby with his house key in the other.
He reads the note again to make sure everything is in order:
“For Dennis Doctor Whitaker
Thanks again for agreeing to house sit! I'm sure you’ll take care of the pad just fine but in case you forget, no smoking, no parties, no pets, and no babies (yours or anybody else's)
See you when I get back :)
Robby”
The note makes Dennis chuckle a little; it's straightforward and just a repeat of what he told him earlier. However the “See you when I get back :)” part has his stomach twist with promise and excitement.
Dennis turns the key in the lock and opens the front door to a beautiful and dark expensive looking duplex. The whole feel and smell of the place matches exactly what he had imagined; the dark oak floors and brown kitchen counters with small decorations of bands and movie references he doesn't understand.
Dennis sets his suitcase down on the floor next to the staircase and scopes out the living area, before advancing further he respectfully takes off his shoes and neatly places them on a shoe rack riddled with some of Robby’s old beaters. A perfectly clean and simple kitchen with a mini bar attached to it and a framed band t-shirt above it. In the adjacent living room, there are lined up family photos that Dennis would have to carefully examine later. A leather couch in great condition and a DVD player next to a CD player in the TV stand; Robby definitely likes it old school.
It was dark by the time Dennis had finished his July 5th shift and had packed his few belongings from a devastated Trinity Santos’ apartment. By now, the man is exhausted and can’t think of much else other than a good night's rest. Dennis carefully makes his way up the perfectly clean set of stairs and is met with a narrow hallway, one door on either end and one door in the middle. The first door on the right is a small bathroom, complete with a blue and green shower curtain tucked into a bathtub, a toilet, a sink with storage underneath, and a tooth brush holder missing its toothbrush.
Dennis moves onto the room connected to the bathroom, presumably the door in the middle of the hall. He fumbles to flick on the light switch, but when he finally does, he gazes upon what he knows is Robby’s bedroom. His mouth falls open a little as he stares at the place the older man usually rests his head, and the simple dresser beside it containing all the regular clothing Dennis never gets to see Robby in. It takes everything in Whitaker's body not to touch and smell everything he shouldn't. He gazes one last time at the simple decorations on the wall, a comically large “macgyver” poster stares back at him before he switches the light off and dips out through the hallway door.
The last door on the left end contains what used to be a guest room, but now looks more akin to a storage room. There are boxes of medical supplies, decorations, old photos and other miscellaneous things from Robby's childhood and teenage years all stacked everywhere, including the bed. Dennis considered it for a moment, but ultimately can not be bothered right now to clear out the room for him to sleep in.
An exhausted man is a desperate man. Dennis shuts off the light to the guest bedroom and closes the door, contemplating what to do next. Robby must have assumed Dennis could move the boxes and sleep there, and Dennis will when he has the motivation to, but for now there were two options for him to get some rest: First, the leather couch that lacked any other pillows or blankets, and second, Robby’s bed.
Dennis couldn't possibly, it would be foolish to shamelessly steal the man's bed even if only for a night. He promises to himself to just quickly step in there once again only to make sure he wouldn't give in and to confirm the couch is a fine option. His feet take him back across the hall and into Robby’s room again, he opts to switch on the lamp placed on Robby’s dresser this time for some inexplicable reason. The room looks cozy with this lighting, and suited just to Robby’s tastes. The bed with a blue duvet spread over it and comfortable pillows seemed to call his name.
I can just sit down for a moment
Dennis made the excuse in his mind as he rested himself on the corner of Robby’s bed. Sitting turned into leaning back, and leaning back turned into resting fully sprawled on the mattress. The man sighed deeply and closed his eyes to just lay there for a moment, not to drift off to sleep but just to relax he justifies.
Robby had been riding on his motorcycle for 4 hours straight without so much as a pit stop. He just began to enter on the border of Canada and was in desperate need of some sleep. The trip to Alberta is a lengthy 31 hours and due to complications with the fourth of July shift, he wasn't able to leave until the following morning on the fifth. Now 8 hours into the drive Robby can’t wait to pull into his first motel. “The Nomad Motel” is just minutes away, so Robby takes in his last few moments on the motorcycle for the night. Without a helmet on, the wind was constantly in his hair and the moonlight lit his path, Robby felt more free than he ever has in the last 20 years.
The motel is surprisingly nice, Robby parks in a covered parking lot, removing the sack of his belongings from his back with a grunt and relieving the tension on his shoulders with the hand that isn't holding the bag. He hurried towards the front door and pulled it open, revealing the tired looking front desk lady and the dim lighting illuminating a couple seating areas.
“Excuse me, my name is Michael Robinavitch. I made a reservation.” Robby taps his fingers on the counter after dropping his bag on the floor next to him.
“Yup. ID please.” The lady barely glances up at Robby.
Robby bends over and fishes his wallet out of his bag, then searches for his ID out of his wallet and slides it across to the woman. She pulls up her glasses with one hand to examine both Robby, and his ID.
“Room 103.” She hands him back his ID and a key card.
“Oookay then…” Robby receives both cards and picks up his bag, swinging it over his right shoulder. He nods at the lady with a smile and walks off; she doesn't bother to smile back.
Upon opening the room and switching on the light, Robby feels immediate relief, his back is aching and his feet are killing him. He kicks off his shoes and drops his bag on the bed, unloading the essentials. He replaces his dirty black cargo pants and brown zip up with fresh pyjamas and snuggles into the bed too tired to care about showering or brushing his teeth. What he does care about though, is checking up on his own house that he already kind of misses, though he is sure to miss it more near the end of the trip.
What Robby had failed to tell Dennis was that he kept a few areas of his house under quiet surveillance. Robby became swayed by the door-to-door sales man offering small secret cameras for monitoring the house, he figured they may come in handy for while he’s away at work or for when a certain someone house sat for him well away on a trip, just to ensure nothing suspicious occurred.
Robby opens the app on his phone connected to the video surveillance of the basement, the kitchen, the living room and of course his own bedroom. He clicks into the kitchen and living room videos that only display dark empty static with a hint of moonlight seeping in through the windows. The basement was the same story, just without the windows. Robby feels oddly hesitant to open his bedroom surveillance, but he proceeds to anyway. Robby squints carefully to confirm what he’s seeing is real; Dennis Whitaker at this very moment is sprawled across Robby’s bed and is seemingly asleep.
Robby watches intently for a few moments and laughs a little bit, he finds the situation sort of cute, not that he would ever admit that. His smile abruptly fades when Dennis shifts up the bed and latches onto one of Robby’s pillows, not just any pillow, but the exact one he sleeps on every night. Dennis gently grasps the pillow, then tightly pulls it to his body, staring at it for a moment before shamelessly shoving his face down into it. Robby gasps but doesn't put his phone down, he doesn't know whether it's out of shame or curiosity. Just grabbing and sniffing his pillow isn't anything incriminating per se… this defends both Dennis and Robby continuing their spirit of inquiry.
Dennis holds the pillow even tighter now, he shifts it down and wraps one leg up around it, still lying on his left side.
“Haaa fuck” Dennis sighed, he knew this situation all too well, he played it in his mind again and again during his day shift, but swore he wouldn’t do exactly this. Dennis knew he shouldn't go any further, this kind of act would have gotten him kicked out of his family back in his childhood days of wonder in Nebraska. He could almost feel the cold and disappointed stare of his father catching him embracing another man's pillow. That glare and the shame he focused on for so many years quickly disappeared when he imagined the soft glassy look of Dr. Robinavitch’s eyes, they were pleading and tired brown orbs that made Dennis comfortable, but also curious.
His hips grind into the pillow harder and his pants grow tighter with every upward movement. Dennis is now rock hard against his boss’ pillow in his boss’ house, could the situation get any more fucked up?
The scent of Robby is seriously messing with the young man’s head. Dennis sits up against the wall and places the pillow next to him, he leans his head back and with a regretful sigh palms at the tight area on his jeans.
Dennis covers his eyes with his left hand, and undoes the zipper and button on his jeans with his right. His boxers are stuck to him from sweating in them all day, he pries them down with a peeling motion and swiftly unveils Whitaker junior to the open air. The sensation of letting himself free is overwhelming, everything about the situation is turning him on, it's so wrong, but feels so right.
Dennis looks down at himself and the stiff situation of his free thinking member. His hand grasps the base of his dick and his other hand braces on his thigh. The first stroke feels electric, all the shame and doubt washes away with intense pleasure, there is no turning back now.
Robby shifted underneath the covers, he knew what Dennis was doing in his bed, he knew that something like this was unacceptable, he knew that it’s a total violation of their professionalism. However, Robby did nothing to stop the brazen act, he didn’t shut off his phone or the cameras, instead he watched with intensity. Somewhere deep inside him, Robby knew that the scene excited a twisted fantasy of his. There had only been one time in the dark of his bedroom while pleasuring himself that Dr. Whitaker’s soft and tired expression plagued his mind and brought him to the edge of climax. He swore to never even think about that day again, it was highly unprofessional and he felt as though he had violated the poor kid. The following days Robby had trouble keeping eye contact with Dennis, and he still hopes that the boy never noticed his struggling gaze.
Robby keeps watching, and Dennis can’t help himself.
Dennis continues to stroke himself with a quicker pace now, his left hand covering his own mouth so as to not make a peep and his head thrown back against the wall.
“Mmmmmm ah.” The noises quietly escape. Every touch feels intoxicating. Dennis fully indulges now, imagining Robby kissing him and playing with his hair. He wishes so badly that it was Robby’s hand pleasing him instead of his own. Waves of pleasure make Whitaker's waist bob up and down with his bent knees bracing his own weight. The fantasy in his head goes dangerously far. Robby kisses his neck, then pulls his shirt up to lick and fondle his chest. Dennis imagines Robby finding the waistband to his jeans and slowly slipping his fingers inside.
The fantasy grows deeper. “Please touch me more…go further.” Whitaker pleads with Robby. Robby complies and unzips his jeans while still kissing on his neck. With Dennis’ stiff cock in his hands, Robby lightly strokes him up and down. The rough hands on sensitive skin have the boy melting into Robby’s embrace.
“Say my name Whitaker.” Robby demands. “I want to hear it.”
“Haa mgh R-Robby…” Dennis can’t be bothered to question the older man's actions, he only hungers for him to touch him more, faster, rougher, harder.
“Not that name…my first name.” Robby keeps his strokes gentle leaving more to desire.
“Michael…it's Michael” Dennis whimpers out, gripping onto Robby’s shoulders and back.
Robby rewards him by kissing his lips again and with swift stimulating caresses he brings Whitaker to climax.
“Haa haa f-fuck-” Dennis closes his eyes tight as an intense cool white pleasure washes over his body, leaving a mess of semen all over his hand and unfortunately, Robby’s clean blue duvet.
He peels open his eyes after a few quick breaths and sits up frantically. The clarity hitting him like a truck. Dennis can not believe what he has just done for a moment he feels like crying, but the shock of seeing that he soiled the bed springs Dennis to his feet.
“Jesus Christ!” He covers his mouth and steps backwards, stumbling a little. I’m so so sorry Robby, I fucked up.
Whitaker composes himself with the thought of bringing the duvet to the laundromat tomorrow and he grabs a tissue from Robby’s nightstand to clean his hand. He would definitely be sleeping on the couch tonight.
Unbeknownst to Dennis, the man of his desires had been watching him the whole time. In all his years that Robby had practiced medicine, never did he see a situation as shocking to him as this. Dennis jerked off in his bed after sniffing his pillow, the situation felt hazy and unreal to Robby, he couldn't quite make up his mind on how to feel about it. All he knew is he didn't hate it.